France's New Angleterre
by Firey-Nii-Wolf
Summary: Someone must hate him. I'm sorry, I mean HER. One Norwegian spell gone wrong and England is transformed into a girl. Can she cope with Sealand as her new son and a possessive France as her boyfriend? Forget the Queen, God save England!
1. Chapter 1

"I've found a good spell."

Iceland blinked, hugging Mr. Puffin tighter. Norway was sick and tired of England trying and failing to show off Magic, making it look instead like something bad. Therefore, Norway wad currently trying to find a nice spell to show off the beauty of Magic.

"This spell turns fungi into roses," Norway said blankly.

"But I like fungi!" a troll said angrily.

"Yes, but most people don't," Norway told the troll, "Don't worry, it's only a temporary change."

Norway set up all the necessary equipment before opening the book. Iceland took a few steps back, still holding Mr. Puffin.

Norway started saying the Latin words, the floor around him glowing. Iceland stared wide-eyed at the glowing floor, Mr. Puffin squawked. It was going to be a successful spe-

"HEY NORDGE!"

"Oh shi-!"

The light suddenly grew brighter before causing a mini-explosion of such. Books and loose papers scattered everywhere. Iceland and his puffin were threw back against the wall harshly, while Norway was thrown against Denmark.

"What the Hell?" Denmark coughed as the dust settled. "What was that?"

"Iceland!" Norway said worriedly, getting up and running to Iceland. The Icelandic nation was groaning against the wall, his back sore from being roughly pushed against it.

"I'm fine," Iceland said. He pushed off the wall and rubbed his sore back, Mr. Puffin jumping onto his hair.

"In all my years," Norway said, turning to face the burning hole in the center of the room, "I have never failed a spell. Until now."

Norway glared at Denmark, who shrugged while grinning sheepishly. When Norway crawled into the hole to check the fungi, he gasped. The fungi was indeed a rose, however it was covered in something that looked like blood.

"What the fu-"

A scream heard worldwide cut him off. It's source came from England.

"Looks like your in trouble," Iceland said blankly.

* * *

><p>AN: LoL! I though of this while talking to my Turkey! Oh Robert, the ideas you give my brain with your stupidity. -3-<p>

Should I be working on Capital Disaster right now? Maaaaaybee~! :3

Review! 


	2. Chapter 2

England stared at himself. Really, did someone up there really hate him? One minute he's brushing his teeth, a poof of smoke later and he's a woman. A good looking woman, mind you.

Pale skin like before and emerald green eyes never changed. However, his eyebrows where now normal sized, and his blonde hair was in two pigtails that reached mid-back. Short straight bangs covered his forehead, and two chinlength locks of hair framed both sides of his face.

England was still short and slim, however the curves from before were now much more exaggerated. Not to mention his size-able breast size that was at least a little more than half of the size of Ukraine's; making the white button-down shirt that he was wearing bulge. To sum it all up, a small pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

"Bloody hell."

England needed one more test. He unzipped his trousers and looked under his Union Jack boxers. Big Ben was gone.

"Bloody hell."

It was official. The personification of England, Arthur Kirkland, was now a woman.

"Bloody hell."

"Is that all you can say England?" Flying Mint Bunny asked, circling the confused nation's head.

"Yes, I mean-look at me!" England scoffed, gesturing to her body, "I'm a bloody female!"

"Well I think your pretty!" a fairy said, landing on England's shoulders.

"Th-thank you," England blushed, tugging on one of her side bangs. "B-But I got to reverse this! And fast!"

She finished brushing her teeth and went to find a bigger shirt. After pulling on a large green hoodie, the biggest thing she owned, she began looking through her spell books in the library. "I wonder why I changed all of a sudden?"

Loud knocking interrupted her search for a cure. She paled before running to the door, nervous.

"Who is it?" she called, biting her lower lip.

"Open up England jerk! It's the awesome nation of Sealand!"

Rolling her eyes, England opened the door to reveal Sealand. Looking up, the micro-nation was shocked to see a beautiful woman answer it instead of his 'father'.

"Um, excuse me miss," Sealand said politely, smiling cutely, "But is Arthur Kirkland here? I'm his son, Peter Kirkland."

"Oh sure, now you admit your my son," England scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. Sealand stared up at her in confusion. "Your son?"

"It's me you bloody fool!" England said, a little more gentle. Damn her maternal instincts. "England."

Sealand stared at her for a bit more. It made no sense. This pretty girl with big innocent emerald eyes and a good rack couldn't be his grouchy nagging MALE caretaker that he had always known. Plus the girl was nicer, and prettier. Did he mention pretty yet?

"Peter Sealand Kirkland," England sighed, "I've known you since you where a baby. I've taken care of you for so long, and you don't reconize me. Me, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. The Pirate Terror, the Ruler of the Seven Seas, the King of Europe, and Catapiller Brows."

"Holy Frying Cheese! England?" Sealand gasped, finally realizing that the woman who stood in front of him was indeed his 'father'. England rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You think?"

"Well you certainly are sassy!" Sealand chirped, unable to make himself angry at England. He might've fought constantly with England, and knew that the girl before him was England, but he had been raised to be a Sealandic Gentleman.

England blinked, noticing the way Sealand acted. The boy hadn't tried to start a verbal war yet. He treated her...gentler. Puffing her cheeks out in anger, she poked Sealand in the chest.

"Don't treat me like a girl!" she huffed, "I'm the bloody United Kingdom!"

"But you are a girl!" Sealand pouted, "What a mean Mama you are!"

England stared blankly at Sealand for a bit before taking a step back, shocked. Mother? Mother? How many times had she tried killing America for calling her that when she was male? Too many to count! However, being called 'Mother' now, by Sealand of all personifications, had no effect on her.

She placed her hand over her mouth and sped toward her library, desparetly wanting a reverse spell. Sealand watched England speed off, confused. Shrugging, the micro-nation closed the door behind him and went to search for a phone. He needed to tell France.

"Bonjour~! Who is this?" France's heavily French accented voice asked over the phone in Sealand's grasp.

"Hello Frog!" Sealand chirped, "It's the awesome nation of Sealand calling from Mama England's house!" France groaned.

"Ugh. Sealand. What do you want?" France sighed tiredly. He wasn't in the mood for Sealand's antics.

"I just though I'd let you know that Angleterre is a female," Sealand said, his tongue tripping over the unfamiliar French word.

"Angleterre?" France asked, impressed that Sealand could at least say the word. "What about him?"

"Just come to England and find out," Sealand said with a smirk. The micro-nation slammed the phone on the receiver, smiling. Hey, he was a gentleman and all, but at the end of the day; England was England, and England was a jerk.

"Hey Mama England~!" Sealand called walking into the large majestic library. The tall ceiling-high walls were covered with shelves that were crammed with thick books from over the years, a majority of them spell books and old fairy tales. A walkway went around the room halfway up to the top. On the ground level, there was a large fireplace with a plush red chair near it. A desk also stood a ways off from the fireplace, a lamp on in. In the center of the ceiling hung a large crystal chandelier. England was on the walkway, looking over a few spell books and a history book.

"England?" Sealand said cautiously, worried about how obsessively the Englishwoman was going through the books. "Do you have any real female clothes?"

England looked down at him, her emerald eyes wide. "Of course not! Who do you think I am? The bloody frog?"

"At least the Frog's not a virgin!" Sealand chirped.

England blushed darkly, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously. Sealand chuckled nervously, backing away slowly. Maybe saying that was a bad idea. England left the books and climbed down to the ground floor, too calmly for Sealand's tastes.

"Did you just call me a virgin?" England hissed, "Do you want to die?" Sealand laughed nervously, fearful for his life now.

"Angleterre~!" called a familiar voice. "Where are you mon petit lapin?" England groaned. "Bloody frog."

* * *

><p>I'm going on Hiatus. :(<p>

I really don't wanna drop the story so early, because FrUK needs more love. Especially Possessive!France. I don't know when I'll be back, so review. It just might make me come back sooner than expected. 


	3. Chapter 3

"Angleterre~!" France called out, entering the old gothic Victorian style mansion England proudly owned. To be honest, France was proud of the mansion too. It was just a beauty of modern and old architecture, and it just pleased the nation.

"Go away Frog!" a girl's voice snapped, a beautiful clear alto. However, it wasn't his Rosbif's voice, and that made France slightly ticked.

A beautiful girl with long blonde pigtails, glasses, a green hoodie, and jeans came stomping into the front hall; Sealand holding her hand. One look into her beautiful angry emerald eyes, and France knew immediately that it was England. Confusion engulfed the French nation while the English nation spat out profanities at him.

"L-Lapin?" France asked, confused.

England stopped mid-rant. Of course, she was a woman. A blush came over her face and she innocently rubbed her arm in shame.

"That's right," England sighed, "I'm a woman, huh? Almost forgot. Stupid Frog."

France blinked. England was so...submissive! And a female! France smirked pervertedly. England was a female, and submissive. Hey, France was bi, and he didn't mind a female England. In fact, he liked it as much as a male England.

"Oi. Frog, are you with us?"

France blinked, coming back to reality. England was close to him, holding Sealand on her hip. Looking so much like a wife. France smiled.

"Wow Angleterre," France cooed, "What a wonderful change. And a wonderful rack."

England blushed. "Ah! You bloody Frog!"

SMACK!

- ^3^ -

"I can't believe you smacked him!" Sealand laughed, slapping an ice pack on France's red cheek.

France winced, but said nothing, glaring at the micro-nation. England pouted, swinging her legs from the tabletop she sat on next to France.

The three where in England's kitchen. France sat at the table, letting Sealand treat his bruised face. England sat next to France on the tabletop.

"I didn't mean to hit him so hard," England grumbled, "Just a tiny swat. Bloody Frog is just weak!"

France smirked and pulled England into his lap.

"Hey! Put me down you Wanker!" England screeched, clinging to France so that she didn't fall off of his lap and onto the floor. France simply laughed pervertedly and held her close. Holding her by her waist.

"But mon cher, I want to hold you!" France dramatically whined, "I love you~!"

"B-bloody Frog!" England cried, blushing a deep red.

France noticed her blush and decided to do something a bit more rash. He buried his face into her neck, nibbling the skin slightly. England squeaked, and began pushing France away, but the French nation only held on tighter.

"F-Francis stop!" England cried fearfully, her body starting to react to France's attention.

"Oi! What're you doing to my Mum?" Sealand demanded, whacking France over the head. France growled, but pulled away.

"Oh Angleterre, have you thought of a female name for while your like this?" France asked conversationally as England got off his lap.

"No," England sighed, "But I want something classy. And something utterly English."

"Like Elizabeth or Angelica?" France tried.

England made a face. "Yes, but not those! Those are ghastly."

"What about Alice?" Sealand tried, "Since your name was Arthur."

"Brilliant Peter!" England praised, "Alice Kirkland. I like the sound of that."

"Oui, it certainly has a quirk to it," France agreed.

"Now I really need to reverse this," England sighed. She checked her watch, sighing. "Bother, it's nearly tea time."

"Iggy's Earl Grey as the best!" Sealand cheered.

"Blast it all, my name is England or Alice," England huffed. France laughed.

"I hope you don't mind me invading-"

"Say vital regions and I'll beat you with a spoon."

"Your tea with Sealand," France finished, ignoring England's interruption.

Sealand laughed. England raised and eyebow and put down the small but menacing spoon in her hand.

"Okay, you can stay," England said cautiously, "But I'm making the tea!"

"I'd never dream of trying to recreate your masterpiece," France said, "I love your tea, it's the one thing you know how to make. However, I do wish to make the scones and a bit of buttered toast."

Sealand cheered while England frowned slightly.

"I'll go set the table in the garden!" Sealand said happily, rushing out of the kitchen toward the back door. "We'll be just like a family!"

Both nations froze as Sealand's laughter died away. A family? Last time they had tried that...well, just take a look America and Canada! If Sealand wanted to make a family out of them while England was a female, would they raise him right? 


	4. Chapter 4

Sealand stepped back, satisfied with how his decorations came out. He had set up the table in the middle of the rose garden, where beautiful red roses surrounded the table in a large outdoor gazebo. He had drapped a white cloth over the table that reached the grassy floor, then draped a smaller red fabric over the tabletop. He'd set out three plates, forks, knives, and spoons. England would bring out the teacups. Sealand had also placed a white vase with roses in it on the middle of the table. Sealand smiled, proud of the beauty of the table and it's surroundings.

"Oh Sealand."

The Sealander turned around, blinking at the amazed Frenchman.

"Angleterre's going to love this," France said brightly, "It's gorgeous Sealand."

"Thanks Froggie!" Sealand chirped brightly, pride coursing through his body.

France smiled before beginning to fill the plates up with scones, chocolate chip cookies, and chocolate cake. Sealand gasped excitedly when he saw all the goodies and hugged France tightly around the waist out of pure excitement. France simply laughed.

"Angleterre's almost done with the tea," France said, "Let me put the leftovers away and I'll help you make something special for her."

"Will it possibly make her mad?" Sealand questioned.

"Possibly," France replied with a shrugg.

Sealand smiled widely, "Then I'm in!"

France laughed again and set the plates up before walking back toward the house.

* * *

><p>"Here, let me help you."<p>

England growled as France took the tea-tray out of her hands.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking a tea-tray outside," England huffed, crossing her ams as she followed France. "And I hope neither you or Sealand screwed up!"

"Such little faith you have in us," France said with a look of mock hurt. "You bring tears to my eyes, chéri!"

England rolled her eyes and ignored him, simply following him outside. France smiled as England's face fell into astonishment when she saw the table.

"Ta-da!" Sealand said proudly. "Like it?"

"It's beautiful!" England said dreamily. "Oh Peter, thank you! I love it!"

Sealand's face slowly fell blank as he stared intently at the English woman.

"You...you called me Peter," Sealand said softly, pure happiness and shock in his eyes, "You never call me by my human name."

England, having realized that she had indeed called Sealand by his human name, sputtered out excuses. Sealand smiled and tightly hugged England. A smile overtook her lips and England hugged back. France took that as a perfect opportunity to place a crown of roses on England's head. The English nation blushed a deep red, releasing Sealand and turning to face France with her hands on her hips.

"JUST BECAUSE I'M A FEMALE DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN TREAT ME LIKE A WOMAN!"

Sealand and France crackled as England grumpily, yet gently, pulled the crown off.

"Who made it?"

"I did," France laughed. "Oh but you love the attention!"

England sighed and tossed the crown at France. "Can we eat now?"

"Mademoiselle," France said, pulling a chair out, with an unnecessary flourish, for England to sit. With a blushing face, England sat down, letting France push the chair in. France and Sealand sat down, starting to pass out plates and teacups. England was quite, watching Sealand and France laughing lightly as France poured Sealand tea. A small feeling bubbled in her chest, a feeling she recognized as longing. With a shake of her head, England took the teapot from France and poured her own tea.

"Sugar Angleterre?" France asked, holding up a small cup of sugar.

"Hell no!" England scoffed. "Nice hard tea is better!"

"That's what I said!" Sealand chirped through a mouthful of cookies. France made a face as England drank her tea.

"You English and your tea," France commented, spooning sugar and honey into his tea. "It tastes too much like tea leaves for me."

"Oh shut up France," England bit back, simple annoyance in her voice.

Sealand watched with a small smile as England and France lightly bickered with each other. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a family. Sure he had Sweden and Finland, but living with them was as effective as living in a doll house. They got the job done, but without much feeling. They lacked the humorous family aura England and France radiated.

"Hmm."

England and France stopped their bickering and turned to stare at Sealand. The micro-nation was mindlessly sipping his tea, lost in thought, with a sad smile on his face. The two nations glanced at each other and nodded. They both scooted closer to Sealand, hugging him on either side.

"What's wrong, love?" England asked gently, running her fingers through Sealand's short hair. "Who's ass am I going to beat to a pulp?"

Sealand smiled sadly at England. A motherly type of emotion swelled in England's heart, an emotion she couldn't deny. She pulled Sealand into her lap, his back to her chest, and wrapped her arms around him. It was at that moment that Sealand began to cry.

"Shh, it's okay, love, it's okay," England cooed, slowly rocking back and forth, a trick that had always worked with America. "It's okay. I'm here, and I won't ever let anything hurt you."

Sealand cried harder, knowing that this was what he had always wanted. A mother. France rubbed Sealand's neck, concerned for the micro-nation.

"What's wrong chéri?" France asked worriedly.

"I *sniff* I want a *hiccup* I want a family!" Sealand said between his tears. "I-I want a *hiccup* a family like this."

England kissed the top of Sealand's head. "Love, if you want, you can stay with us until this is all sorted out."

Sealand looked up at England, tears in his blue eyes. "R-Really?"

"Oui," France reassured him,"With both of us."

Sealand hugged them both, laughing and crying at the same time. France and England both hugged him back, falling into an old familiar pattern. France put his other arm around England, a small smirk on his face. England ignored it, knowing that this would be just like raising Canada and America again. But for God's sake, she honestly hoped that they wouldn't fuck up Sealand the way they had with America and Canada.

* * *

><p>England tucked the now sleeping Sealand into her bed. France stroked his hair as England went to get something. When she came back, France recognized the stuffed rabbit. England used to carry it around with her everywhere when she was younger. She tucked it into Sealand's arms and kissed the micro-nation's forehead.<p>

France stood up and followed England out the door. She carefully closed it behind them, and motioned for France to follow her. The two walked silently to the other master bedroom down the hall. When they were in, France immediately latched onto England's waist.

"So we're together again?" France whispered into England's ear with a smirk on his face. "Just as we where when we raised America and Canada?"

England blushed, closing the door and turning in France's arms.

"Just for now," England said stiffly. "But you better keep it in your pants!"

"Maybe~!" France said, mumbling against England's neck. England shivered, pushing down the excitement in her body.

"I know you want me," France whispered seductively into England's ear.

SMACK!

"I said in your pants Wanker!"

France rubbed his cheek as England stomped off to the attached bathroom. France smiled suddenly. England and himself were together again! With a perverted smirk, he stripped down to his boxers and began searching through England's closet.

He pulled out a very lacy and revealing nightgown. He frowned at it before realizing it probably belonged to Northern Ireland. Like his cute little England could really top anyone. He went over to the closed bathroom door and knocked.

"Oh Angleterre~!" France called, "I found you something to sleep in~!"

The door opened a crack and a hand shot out. France dropped the lacy nightgown into the awaiting hand. France waited as England pulled her hand in and closed that door. When no sound came from the bathroom, he shrugged and got into bed.

A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal a very red-faced England. The lacy nightgown barely covered her vitals, and her breasts were almost practically popping out. Her blonde hair was loose, reaching her waist. France whistled, making England blush harder and tug on the lacy hem.

"We're just sleeping together," England growled, crawling under the covers with France. "Nothing more."

"Ohonhonhon~! 'Sleeping together' can mean many terms~!" France said with a perverted smirk. England huffed and turned her back to France.

"Just remember to keep it in your pants or I'll cut it off Frog."

"Harsh chéri."

* * *

><p>:]<p>

I know many people have been waiting for this chapter, and I just hope that you find it good enough.

I'm proud to say I have a new Beta, Avato-chan. My old one, who's name will not be mentioned, horribly dumped me. So thank Avato-chan, who is also my Germany, and my new North Italy for pushing me to write this chapter.

Sorry for the slow updates, school's a killer. I'll try to update faster, but please toss the Authoress a bone once in awhile! She needs motivation!

Review if you like perverted France! :D 


	5. Chapter 5

Warning: slight groping, cockblocking, and sexual tensions -/-

Yeah, just cuz it's France & England.

Enjoy~!

* * *

><p>England slept quite good, groaning only when she heard Flying Mint Bunny calling his name.<p>

"England."

With a yawn, England opened his eyes to stare sleepily at his friend.

"Flying Mint Bunny, you won't believe what a crazy dream I had!" England said lazily. "I was a girl, Sealand wanted to be my son, and I had agreed to date France again!"

Before Mint Bunny could reply, a familiar French laugh sounded in her ear. "That was no dream, mon Angleterre~!"

England squeaked as he- correction, she was turned and pulled into a kiss, her face heating up. France pulled her closer, corresponding their bodies together. England kissed back out of habit, before it clicked in her mind that it was France she was currently making out with. She yanked on France's hair, actually making the perverted Frenchman moan.

"So violent, mon Lapin~!" France whispered huskily into England's ear.

"Off Frog!" England screeched, attempting to shove France away. "Off!"

France smirked pervertedly. Oh how England knew that smirk.

"F-Frog, I know what your thinking!" England squeaked as France climbed on top of her, pinning the English nation down. "Stop right now and I'll let you walk away with your dick still attached!"

France laughed pervertedly. "Silly Angleterre, if we had sex before, how can you say no now?"

"Because I couldn't get pregnant before!" England snapped, her body heating up as France rubbed her thighs and sides.

A possessive look flashed across France's face. England shivered as those possessed blue orbs stared down at her the way a wolf would to a lamb.

"Oh yes," France murmured tonelessly, "We wouldn't want you pregnant with my child now would we?"

England had no chance to reply or comment. France's lips where on hers again, his tongue demanding entrance, and his hands cupping her breasts. England moaned loudly, unintentionally giving France an invitation into her mouth. France immediately plunged in, completely dominating and laying claim to the mouth that he knew so well already. How he loved having England again!

England wrapped her arms around France's neck, tangling her fingers in his wavy locks and letting loose moans as France rolled and pinched her nipples. France pulled away for air, a small strand of saliva connecting them still. As England panted for breath, France attacked her neck, nipping and sucking on the pure skin.

"F-Francis," England moaned, tilting her head to the side to give France even more access. France marked her neck with hickeys, making sure to let everyone know that England belonged to him and only him.

"Mon Angleterre," France growled possessively against England's neck. "Mon!"

"Y-Yours," England whimpered, feeling her womanly vital regions become wet with arousal. France growled happily, one hand reaching down to palm her wetness.

"UNCLE SCOTLAND!

Both France and England groaned, and not from pleasure. Did England's oldest brother really have go and ruin their first sexual attempt since their brake-up at the same time? The two rolled out of bed, England grabbling new clothes and her green hoodie while France picked up yesterday's clothes.

"I'll need clothes for here again," France mused as England scampered off to change in the bathroom.

As soon as the two nations were dressed, they walked down to the door. Sealand was at the door, attempting to stop Scotland from entering.

"And what makes ya think I can't see ma baby brother?"

"Because I said so!"

"Step aside shrimp!"

"I'll bite you! I swear I will!"

England snorted. She stepped forward, crossing her arms.

"Well you seem to enjoy ruining my life," England huffed, "And what the bloody Hell do you want?"

Scotland stared at her before rudely saying, "Who the bloody fuck are you and why are you in my brother's house?"

"Charming language," France commented dryly.

"Fuckin Frog," Scotland scoffed, "Who's she?"

"Your fucking brother," England spat, "Before you comment, I have no idea how the bloody Hell this happened."

Scotland stared at her, then burst out laughing. England gritted her teeth angrily, balling her fists. England walked up to her brother and stomped on his foot.

"Ah! Woman, that was bloody uncalled for!" Scotland yelped in pain.

"Yes it was! Now get out of my bloody house!" England snapped.

"I came to ask ya if yer going ter the UN meeting in three days," Scotland mumbled. "I got something I want ya ter give ter Ireland."

England held out her hand, waiting as Scotland searched in the backpack slung on his arm. He pulled out a square package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Scotland hesitated before adding, "I also wanna talk ter ya."

"Garden," England said. As she turned and headed for the rose garden, Scotland following, she added over her shoulder, "Don't bother us, and breakfast better be ready!"

France chuckled, but nodded, watching his precious England walk off with her brother in tow. He sighed and turned to Sealand.

"I want hotcakes," Sealand said bluntly.

* * *

><p>England took her brother deeper into her rose garden, to a special section where thistles, daffodils, and shamrocks bloomed alongside the roses. Scotland smiled softly, remembering when Wales, England, and himself had planted the national flowers.<p>

"What do you want Scott?" England asked, keeping her eyes trained on a rose as she used her brother's human name. Scotland sighed.

"Well...Arthur?"

"Alice," England corrected.

"Alice," Scotland repeated. "Well, I just wanted to know, how this was affecting you?"

"I'm fine," England replied curtly, "I don't need anyone to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Why are France and Sealand here?"

England froze, unsure of what to say. Lie to her brother or tell the truth?

"England?"

"It's none of your business," England hissed. "It's temporary."

"Alice, I swear to God, if your dating that French bastard again," Scotland threatened, his green eyes flashing with rage, and his thick Kirkland eyebrows furrowed.

"That's my life, and my decision!" England snapped angrily, whirling around to glare at her brother.

"It's not if it affects the family!" Scotland protested. "John, William, and I took care of you when you spent almost three months crying when that bastard broke up with you!"

"Then I'll solve it on my own," England said harshly, "Just leave me alone and get out of my house!"

Scotland picked a rose, ignoring the thorns as they dug into his skin. He walked over to England and tucked the rose into one of her ponytails. Wordlessly, he placed the package for Ireland into his sister's hands and left. England stared at the package in her hands, ignorant to the tears rolling down her face.

* * *

><p>England walked into the kitchen, the smell of hotcakes drawing her. France smiled when he saw England walk in sniffing.<p>

"Something smells good Frog," England admitted, a blush on her face.

"Tastes good too!" Sealand said with a mouthful of food.

France handed her a plate of hotcakes with eggs and sausage. England thanked him and sat next to Sealand. Sealand smiled at his "mother" before continuing to shove food into his mouth.

"Eat slower," England advised, "You'll choke like that."

"He's like America, leave him be," France laughed, waving his lover's advice away.

Sealand blinked, slightly insulted. America was a brat, he didn't want to be like him. Sealand swallowed his food and began to eat calmer. England, noticing this, laughed.

France sat at the table with them, watching the two eat. Sealand stared at his "father," eating slowly. England looked up at France, getting irritated.

"Yes Frog?" England asked, irritated at being watched.

"You need woman clothes Angleterre," France said. "The UN meeting is in three days."

"Well I'm not bloody shopping for woman's clothes!" England blushed.

"It'll be an adventurous shopping experience for the two of us," France said slyly. England blushed.

"Can I pick out a dress for Mum?" Sealand asked shyly, a smile on his face. England groaned, causing France to laugh.

"It's settled then!" France laughed. "We're shopping after breakfast!" 


	6. Chapter 6

At long last! I've updated! KESESES!

Ugh, sorry guys. School is killing me. I go on Christmas brake soon, so hopefully I'll complete a few chapters then.

Oh yeah, and Capital Disaster is under construction. -_-'

Es tut Meir Lied(I'm Sorry).

"Francis stop pulling! I said stop pulling you bloody frog!"

France excitedly tugged England to his car, his grip on her hand firm. France opened and held the passanger door for England, a smile on the Frenchman's face.

"Madame," France said with a glint in his eye, "Your carriage."

England blushed, tempted to hit him, but simply got into the car. Sealand got in the back as France walked around the car and got into the driver's side.

"Where are we going?" England asked grumpily, weary of shopping with France. Even if Sealand was there, he'd probably get her something perverted. Bloody frog.

"Just in London," France replied. "We need to make you fashionable!"

England made a face. Fashion was for the weak. England always wore clothes meant for a Gentleman. As if knowing what was going through the Englishwoman's head, France added, "Or you can wear that green hoodie and whatever else is in your closet that probably won't fit over your breasts and be considered a crossdressing hooker."

"Fuck you."

"Love you too cherí~!" France replied with smug victory. England crossed her arms sulkily, determined not to enjoy any of it. Shopping with the Frog would probably be the most painful moment of her life, next to burning Joan D'Arc.

England blinked, all traces of anger gone. Why would Joan D'Arc come up in her mind all of a sudden? If anything, she usually tried to burry any trace of that woman deep within her subconscious. England looked out the window, thoughtfully chewing on her lip. Joan D'Arc, the woman who had tried to take France from her. England shook her head, riding her mind of the historical Frenchwoman who had captured the heart of her love.

* * *

><p>"Francis, I look like a hooker."<p>

England tried to cross her arms over the thin tube top France had picked for her. The tight black skinny jeans where comfortable enough, but the top was what was bad.

"Non, cherí," France said dismissively. "You look like a regular British teenager."

England'd eyebrow twitched. Oh how she wanted to kill him. But, it was better than the black corset he had tried to get her. Sealand had been the one to suggest the skinny jeans, which England had to admit to herself, she liked them.

"Try this Mum," Sealand suggested, handing her a thick shirt and a long red undershirt.

"Thank you Peter," England thanked before going into the changing room.

"How do the bras feel, cherí?" France asked loudly as he casually leaned on the door of the changing stall England was in. England blushed, her fingers fiddling with the straps of the new bra she was currently wearing.

France had a ball picking out different sizes and cups for her, as well as different designs. In the end, England left the Victoria's Secret store with just one bra.

"I was actually surprised to find you where only a 14D," France continued casually. "We'll go back when Sealand isn't around and buy you a few more, as well as some proper underwear."

England's blush deepened. Just because she decided to continue using her boxers meant nothing! If wearing panties or a thong was the alternative, then quite frankly, screw that! Boxers felt much more natural and normal.

England finally decided to pull on the shirt, after slipping on the long red undershirt that reached past her ass. She at last noticed the design on it. A tight black shirt made of thick material decorated with red roses that dripped with what looked like blood. A slightly punker-status shirt; how did Sealand know she would like this?

The unknowingly grinning nation stepped out of the stall to awaiting eyes. France licked his lips, his eyes raking up and down the sexy Brit. Sealand smiled smugly, pride in his blue eyes.

"Combat boots and a leather jacket would complete it," Sealand commented.

"Peter, how did you know I'd like this?" England asked happily, her green eyes glittering.

"You kinda looked like the rocker type with how spiky your hair always was," Sealand admitted with a shrug. "Figured you'd like it."

France watched mutinously as Sealand and England rushed over to look over the gothic and punk looking shirts. Sealand and England where growing a little too close for his tastes. The English nation was, after all, his.

France followed the two, stealthily sneaking up behind England and slipping his arms around her. He smirked against her neck as England squeaked in surprise.

"Bloody Frog! Let go!" England squeaked, trying to pry France's arms off. France absentmindedly nibbled on her neck as he tightened his grip. At last, England gave up and let France hold her as she browsed the shirts with Sealand.

"Mine," France murmured against England's skin. "Mine."

* * *

><p>England collapsed on the couch in exhaustion as France and Sealand brought in the few shopping bags. The three of them had spent the rest of the day shopping around London for clothes.<p>

"This female crap is too much," England groaned. "And my back hurts."

France came up behind the couch, reaching down to massage England's shoulders.

"That's because your not used to carrying the extra weight on your chest that breasts give you," France explained. "You'll get used to it."

"How do you know?" England demanded.

"Your talking to the number one whore, remember?" France replied sarcastically.

A sharp pang of pain shot through England's heart at France's words. Why did it hurt so much that France had slept with so many women? France smiled softly at England's small scowl. Was she realizing she was his?

"Well now your mine," England said firmly, ignoring the blush on her face. "So no sleeping around."

France bent over, pressing his lips against England's. Her heart fluttered on butterfly wings, even after France pulled away.

"Oui," France whispered. "Yours, and your mine."

"Yours," England repeated, unknowingly signing her life and her future away to France. France smiled. Yes, she was his.

"Sleep, mon Lapin," France cooed, "I'll put your things away."

England snuggled the couch pillows comfortably. France left, off to do as he said. England briefly thought of Joan D'Arc again, her name plaguing the Englishwoman's mind. She shoved those thoughts away. She was France's love, as things should be. No one would take her spot. But still, that nagging feeling was there. England drifted off to sleep, the French heroine on her mind. 


	7. Chapter 7

Ha Ha! I haven't updated in SSSOOO long! Well, I got this chappie and another one in the works. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>England bit her lip, her heart racing. She couldn't do this, God she couldn't do this!<p>

"L-Let's go home France, please?" England begged. "I-I feel sick!"

France laughed, hugging England. Seeing her get flustered was so cute, and all over a United Nations meeting. England and France were currently standing outside the UN meeting room, England simply staring at the doors with contempt. She was wearing a black female business suit, holding the box her brother had given her. France smiled and pushed open the doors.

"AHAHAHAHAHA! I'M THE HERO!"

"Ve~! Germany~!"

"Veneziano! Get away from that potato-sucking jerk!"

"Ayiah! Prussia!"

"Keseseseses~! I invaded China's vital regions!"

"Kolkolkol~ Become one with Russia, da?"

"Fusosososo~! Lovi~!"

"Ack! Tomato Jerk!"

England made a face. The chaos of the room always gave her a migraine. Thank the Lord for tea. She followed France as the two made their way to the two empty seats obviously for them. France pulled out her chair for her, smiling. England smiled thankfully.

"Holy McDonalds man! There's a sexy chick in the meeting!"

England frowned, feeling everyone's eyes on her as she sat down. France pushed the chair in and sat next to her. She at last looked up, meeting about 200 pairs of eyes. Her already flushed face grew a darker red.

"Well?" England snorted, her emerald eyes flashing. "Let's get this meeting started."

Germany cleared his throat. "Ma'am, we're going to have to ask you to leave."

England raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to speak, but got cut off by slightly nervous looking Norway.

"Actually Germany, this woman is England," Norway spoke up. England blinked in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the Norwegian.

"A couple fairies told me," Norway explained to her. He turned back to the other nations and continued. "This woman is actually England. A simple spell gone wrong really."

"But that chick's WAY too cute to be Iggy!" America protested loudly, his face firmly set in a frown. England scowled, her face blushing a deeper red. France finally decided to speak up.

"This is mon petite Angleterre!" France said sharply. "Little Sealand can vouch for her as well!"

"Not that it'll count," England mumbled under her breath. Micro-nations where always ignored, that's why Wy still hated her.

"Okay, so I'll ask her a question only Iggy will know!" America laughed. Suddenly, he turned his full attention to England, his face serious. England's heart leapt; she'd seen that serious face only three times, and all of those times had included painful memories or war.

"What did Ig say to me and Mattie after 9/11?" America asked seriously, sadness flashing through his blue eyes. England's heart constricted. She remembered pulling America and Canada to the side and spoke to them after the horrific event. England remembered the blood coming from America's nose, and she remember Canada being so brave as he held the rag to his brother's nose.

"'Things are going to be different now, and your just going to have to take it. Alfred, you may never wear the crown again, but that's okay. Matthew, your all your brother has, and the only one he trusts right now. You both must help and support each other. It's time for the young to inherit the Earth.'" England repeated, her voice soft and delicate, directed only toward her sons. Canada hugged Kumajiro tightly, sadness reflecting in his violet eyes. America stared at her, sad blue eyes searching equally sad green ones. Finally, America smiled widely, all his sadness gone.

"It IS Iggy!"

England sighed, slumping in her chair, rubbing her temples. How did America come out so messed up? France smiled encouragingly at her, taking her hand in his.

"So, like, you two are, like, totes together again, right?" Poland asked excitedly. Hungary nudged him, not really excited about the coupling since England was a girl. Japan seemed a little disappointed too. America and Canada watched curiously as England blushed, ripping her hand away from France. He sent her an irritated glare and grabbed her hand again.

"Oui, we are," France answered smugly. All the nations immediately began to whisper among themselves, casting the couple a few dubious looks.

"Can we just continue on with the meeting please?" Austria huffed.

"I agree," Germany sighed. "Quickly, before anything more distracts us."

* * *

><p>England followed France as the two walked out of the meeting room, stomachs growling. After a rather surprisingly, successful and smooth meeting, all the nations had decided to take a much needed lunch. Short blonde locks caught England's eye. She tightened her hold on the box in her other hand and ran after her brother, leaving France behind.<p>

"Oi! Ireland! Wait up!"

The blonde Irish man turned, his thick blonde eyebrows furrowing as green eyes watched his younger 'sister' approaching him. She huffed when she reached him, holding out a box he had seen her bring in with her.

"Scott wanted me to give you this," England huffed, her green eyes void of emotion. Ireland took the box, rattling it before looking back at his sister.

"All right then," England hummed, turning around. "Good day to you."

With a careless wave over her shoulder, England began walking off back to France, who looked rather pissed. Ireland studied his sister's retreating back. She was so different as a woman. Submissive and spineless; the great England wasn't herself. With a snort, Ireland continued walking the opposite way, he'd find an opportunity to warn his sister later. Maybe.

France wrapped one arm around England's waist, pulling her close. England looked up at him with a questioning gaze, her face flushing red when she felt millions on eyes on the two of them. France only smiled, squeezing her waist possessively. She cleared her throat, putting aside the unease in her mind.

"Let's go get some food, okay?" England suggested.

"Oui," France agreed.

The two walked over to the cafeteria, France's smile widening as everyone stared. England blushed making her way over to where America, Canada, Japan, Veneziano, Romano, Spain, Germany, and Prussia where at. France pulled her chair out for her as Germany, Prussia, Spain, Romano, and Veneziano stood up.

"Such gentlemen," England muttered sarcastically, her face flushing darker. France pushed her chair in, and the others sat back down.

"I do the same for any awesome or unawesome woman," Prussia scoffed, his eyes trailing over to where Hungary sat. "Old man Fritz taught me manners, however I use them sparingly and awesomely."

"Romano and I have always tried to charm the pretty female nations~!" Veneziano chirped. Romano blushed a feirce tomato red, elbowing his brother.

"Chigi! I do it because it's proper!" Romano snapped angrily.

"I did it because mi Lovi did it!" Spain said, smiling widely at Romano. England snorted.

"Anyway," France coughed, glaring at them all. "I'll go get some food, oui ma chéri?"

"S-Sure," England huffed, crossing her arms and her legs. France smiled and left. England, feeling their eyes on her, looked at America and Canada. Silence engulfed the table, all eyes on the trio.

"Well?" England asked at last, uncrossing her arms and staring expectantly at her 'sons'.

"So your with France," America commented dryly, "Again?"

England pursed her lips, glaring at him.

"It's my life, therefore my choice," England said defiantly.

"But it affects us!" America snapped angrily. "Canada and I are affected by your choices!"

"Trust me, your economy, trade, or anything else won't be affected," England growled. "Like I said, my life, my choice."

"We're just worried that he'll brake your heart again," Canada assured her, placing a hand on America's shoulder. England stared at him, her green orbs reflecting the same worry that reflected in Canada's.

"My decision," England repeated solemly. "My heartbreak."

"Well, all she has to worry about is France's possessiveness," Spain mused. All eyes, minus Prussia's, turned to Spain, wide with surprise.

"Wha? You didn't know about Franny's little possessive trait?" Prussia asked, a bemused smirk forming on his lips. "That's too bad."

"What do you mean possessive?" England asked sharply. "I've known him all my life, he's never been possessive with me!"

Spain and Prussia laughed, sharing a look when their laughter died away.

"Spain and France are freaking possessive!" Prussia snorted, his ruby eyes glittering darkly.

"Got that right," Romano and Veneziano muttered simultaneously as Spain separated them and hugged Romano tightly.

"France has been unawesomely possessive of you since you burned Joan D'Arc," Prussia said carelessly, leaning back in his seat. England let the words sink in. Since Joan D'Arc; that name had been popping up so often! England shook her head, ridding it of the fears and doubts that sprung up.

"Francis is my boyfriend, and I'll deal with what comes!" England snapped angrily. She stood up, huffing, and stomped off.

* * *

><p>The rest of the meeting passed in the same peace and speed that the first half had passed in. England and France walked down the hallway, planning their return to the Kirkland manor, where Sealand waited for their return.<p>

"England wait, please."

France, recognizing the voice, turned around. England was already walking back toward Norway and Denmark. Iceland paced along behind them, shyly hiding behind Denmark.

"Norway," England sighed, "Look, I swear, I don't know how this happened! I swear, I want performing ANY magic at all! Ask Flying Mint Bunny!"

"I believe you," Norway assured her, "I'm already creating a cure. It'll be ready in at least a week."

"A week?" England scoffed. "That long?"

Norway nodded, his eyes flickering up to Denmark, who was oddly quiet. It would've been sooner if Denmark hadn't messed up the half-way produced remedy with his Danish, and slightly American, ways.

"A week is perfect," France spoke up, his hand tightly squeezing England's shoulder. "Contact us later if it's finished earlier, but right now Angleterre and I have business to attend to."

He bowed, then yanked a blushing England away. Norway watched them leave, a prickle of worry shooting up his spine. He didn't like the dark glint in France's eyes. The spell wasn't meant for humans, and he feared anything might tip the spell into a state of instability. With a heavy heart, Norway sighed and turned to Denmark.

"You stupid Dane, this is all your fault!" Norway huffed. He grabbed Iceland and stomped off, a smiling Denmark following them. 


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of the door opening made Sealand turn around from his sitting position on the couch. His face lit up when he saw England and France walking through the door. "Your home!" Sealand chirped brightly, jumping over the couch and running toward England

"Peter," England chided, " that wasn't a very proper- Ophf!"

Sealand had cut her off by running into England and tackling her into a hug. England blinked, shocked that the boy had actually hugged her before smiling and hugging back. She placed a quick peck on Sealand's forehead before picking him up in her arms.

"Was everything okay while we were gone?" England asked, walking off with her son in her arms, completely forgetting about France.

"Yeah, it was great! Wy and San Marino came over and we all saw a movie! It was some cheesy American one, but it was still cool!"

France watched with fondness as he watched England and Sealand talking enthusiastically. The Frenchman closed the door behind him and followed as England climbed the steps to what used to be America and Canada's room. France lingered on the doorway, placing a hand on the molding as memories passes through his head. Memories of lullabies sang to drowsy boys in French or English, of fussing over sick boys at two in the morning, of sending a naughty boy to the corner, of bedtime stories that usually consisted of pirates and heroes and thieves, and of thunderstorms passed under blankets with two trembling boys. France smiled softly and looked up at his love and son. The two where seated on the single bed, Sealand listening avidly as England dramatically told a story of the sea. France leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms, watching. It was beautiful, it was sweet. It made France's heart soar. How he had missed these days of raising a child, and of watching England raise a child. He didn't want these days to end as they did with America and Canada.

* * *

><p>"H-Hey...Alfred?"<p>

America looked up from his iPhone, his blue eyes landing on his brother. Canada held his bear tighter and lowered his eyes. America waited for his brother to start speaking again. Canada didn't approach him often as America liked, but when he did, America always gave his brother his full attention.

"They're...They're raising Sealand, aren't they?" Canada whispered, longing in his voice. No matter how much the two North American brothers had wanted their independence, they sill wished for the family structure they once had with France and England. America sighed, a spike of jeleausly coursing through his body, leaving a stormy feeling in his stomach. America honestly hoped that they weren't, he had waited far too long for the two to apporach him as a son again, but it indeed seemed as though the two were raising the young micronation.

"Mattie? We need to get rid of Peter," America said sharply, a bitter and jelaous edge detectable in his voice. Canada nodded, his body shivering slightly in fear. The Canadian could tell, just by the look on his brother's face, that Sealand might not exist any longer. America stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket and hugging his brother.

"I promise Mattie," America whispered, stroking Canada's soft blonde locks. "If those two are together, then it will be only the two of us who are allowed to be their sons. Peter will die if he thinks he can take our place."

Canada whimpered and burried his face in America's shoulder.

"England wouldn't want to raise you anymore if you kill-"

**SMACK**

Canada staggered out of America's arms, holding his cheek. Already it was growing red from where his brother had whacked him. America's blue eyes flashed dangerusly as he stared intently into the violet eyes of his quivering brother.

"Don't say that," America hissed. "Why would you say that?"

"B-B-B-B-Because England t-thinks your his-her equal," Canada studdered, shriking lower as America loomed closer. "H-H-H-H-He-She wouldn't want to raise you b-because of the Revolution."

Canada felt himself fall to the floor, quivering and barely breathing as America began stroking his hair and stared into his eyes. Canada let out a cry when America gripped Canda's hair tightly, tugging the golden locks.

"They are _OUR_ parents," America said calmly. "We are their _SONS_. Understand?"

Canada nodded. America smiled and kissed his brother's cheek and held in a tight embrace. Canada shyly smiled back, a seed of fear growing in his heart. Peter was a joy to France and England, and Canada couldn't let his brother take that away from them.

* * *

><p>England squeaked, jumping slightly as France wrapped his arms around her waist. The French nation kissed her cheek and rested his chin on her shoulder.<p>

"What're you making, love?" France asked, already knowing the answer by the kettle in her hands.

"Tea of course!" England scoffed. "What else?"

"Well I was hoping not scones," France chuckled. England puffed out her cheeks, her brows furrowing in annoyance. She's so cute like that, France though, Simply too cute. The English female stepped out of his embrace, walking over to the phone.

"Who're you calling, Lapin?" France asked, raising an eyebrow when the woman hushed him. She dialed the number, and waited.

"_Ciao_?"

"Hello Romano," England chirped brightly. France blinked.

'Why the hell is Arthur calling Romano?' France thought jealously, frowning.

"_Ciao_ England," Romano's sigh was heard.

"Are you aware that San Marino snuck out again?" England asked sweetly. "I also found a very cheesy American Mafia movie in my DVD player and I ask that you not allow your brother to spead such an influence over Sealand."

France snickered as Romano's curses where heard.

"Fuck, the last damn thing I need is a fucking Sealandic Mafia! Then I really will have to fucking acknowledge Sealand as a damn nation."

England hummed.

"Well, can't make any promises, but I'll try," Romano grumbled.

"It's all I ask, love."

"Alright, _addio_."

England hung up, smiling brightly.

"Good, now that that's out of the way~!"

"Your such an over protective mother, _cheri_," France cooed.

"I don't want him to grow up as violent as we did," England huffed. "He may have been born for war, but the hell if I let anyone harm him!"

* * *

><p>Short is Short, I know. -_-'<p>

BUT I'M BAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Here's your chappie, enjoy! :)


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